


Doing One's Best

by windfallswest



Category: Belgariad/Malloreon Series - David & Leigh Eddings
Genre: Lemon, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: "You're doing that on purpose," Belgarath accused.Silk's smile now was no less impudent, but suddenly there was an additional edge to it. "I was wondering how long it would take you to catch on, old friend."In fact, it took Belgarath another long moment to realise that the urge he was reining in wasn't tostranglehis travelling companion.





	Doing One's Best

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse me while I despoil my childhood.
> 
> Set during Belgarath and Silk's first excursion in Tol Nedra during _Belgarath the Sorcerer_ , on the journey between Tol Rane and Tol Borune. 
> 
> Word count: 2.5k. Time it took to write: 5+ years, wtf brain.

"I suppose you don't approve," his light-fingered friend said, hefting a purse he hadn't had at the beginning of his conversation with the party of travellers they'd encountered heading the opposite direction on the road between Tol Borune and Tol Rane.

"I'm not sure it's necessary, but it doesn't really bother me," Belgarath said. "As a matter of fact, it reminds me of my own misspent youth."

" _You?_ A thief?" Silk asked incredulously.

Belgarath shrugged. "Before my Master took me in hand. Of course, thievery wasn't really all that much of a challenge back then, since no one had gotten around to inventing locks yet."

The cheeky grin Silk was wearing was one he'd had since before he could walk. Belgarath always found it particularly irritating. It made him itch to do something to wipe it off that sharp-nosed face—nothing extreme, of course; maybe it was something of the wolf in him that recognised it as a manner of challenge. Belgarath opened his mouth to tell the little Drasnian, for the hundredth time, just what he thought of that particular expression when a thought occurred to him.

"You're doing that on purpose," Belgarath accused.

Silk's smile was no less impudent, but suddenly there was an additional edge to it. "I was wondering how long it would take you to catch on, old friend."

In fact, it took Belgarath another long moment to realise that the urge he was reining in wasn't to _strangle_ his travelling companion. 

To say Belgarath was shocked would have been overstating things, although he certainly hadn't been expecting an overture from this front. After seven thousand years, there wasn't much left that could actually shock him. Belgarath didn't get as exotic about his pleasures as, for example, Ctuchik did; but, to put it delicately, his horizons were slightly broader than most people's. 

Belgarath regarded Silk consideringly. He didn't concern himself much with age—there _were_ some downsides to being the world's oldest man—beyond the considerations of general decency. There was no question in his mind that Kheldar knew what he was about; and besides, he was quicker with his knives than a Nadrak woman. He was plenty old enough to be married, had some young lady been enterprising enough to drag him to the altar—although that was looking less and less likely all the time.

And Silk wasn't going to be looking for something Belgarath couldn't give him. Belgarath knew wanderlust, and his sharp-nosed friend was as fast on his feet as he was with his mouth. 

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised Drasnian intelligence knows that, too," Belgarath said wryly. "They've had thousands of years to put that file together."

"Oh, there are some things you don't need files for," Silk said dismissively. "I do have eyes, after all."

Indeed, they lingered in a very flattering manner. Belgarath shifted in his saddle, squinting suspiciously at the sharp-nosed little man to cover it. "Are you playing games, Silk?"

Silk laughed. "Of course. We Drasnians are always playing games; I'd have thought you'd know that by now, old friend."

Belgarath snorted but otherwise let that pass. 

 

Ambar of Kotu wasn't as prosperous a merchant as Radek of Boktor, and Silk took his disguises seriously; so while the moderate-sized town where they stopped had better accommodations to choose from, they ended up taking lodging at a slightly shabby inn. Belgarath didn't say anything when Silk only engaged one room for the night; it wouldn't look unusual, even though he strongly suspected ulterior motives.

Silk chatted breezily through supper, as he had during the day's ride. Although Belgarath had been accused with some justification of enjoying the sound of his own voice rather too much, he didn't mind having companions who could carry their side of a conversation. Silk was entertaining enough; and he wasn't flirting constantly, nor in public. Well, not blatantly, anyway. The assiduous perfection of his masquerade was itself a sort of tease. Belgarath felt a spark of anticipation kindle in his belly.

Silk didn't drop the act until they closed their door behind them. The change was subtle, but it rippled through him in a way that reminded Belgarath of the change of form. For a moment, he felt a pang of timeless loss, familiar as an old enemy. 

Then Kheldar turned around, already picking at the lacing on his tunic, that never-ending erratic energy showing in every move he made. Despite his youth, he was already sharp and hard; and knowing his lineage Belgarath strongly suspected he'd never grow out of this adolescent leanness.

"Overconfident, aren't you?" Belgarath asked, laying the ghost with the skill of long practice. It helped that there was nothing past that fleeting moment in Silk's restless energy to raise it. 

Silk smirked. "Only if I'm wrong. Am I wrong?"

Belgarath returned him a flat look, then gave in to the urge he'd been holding in since they left Tol Honeth and grabbed him by the hair to haul him in for a kiss. He growled a little bit in satisfaction at having taken back the advantage. 

Silk caught up quickly, though. After a brief, startled moment, he came right back at Belgarath.

He was relieved to have his guesses confirmed. Silk was maybe trying a little too hard, but this was not the kiss of a virgin. In fact, it bore much more resemblance to the kiss of a man who wanted to take Belgarath's knees out from under him. Silk had already vined his way around him, and their bodies were rubbing together in all sorts of interesting places.

His quick fingers had lost no time in divesting them both of their clothes. Belgarath slid his hands up under Silk's tunic and pushed it off over his head. It landed on the floor with a clatter of concealed knives. There was another strapped close to his forearm.

Belgarath used his momentum to move them in the direction of the nearest of the two narrow beds. Silk followed his lead easily, which should have been warning enough in and of itself. When he went over backwards onto the straw-stuffed mattress, he pulled Belgarath after him and rolled him under. He timed his move so smoothly that Belgarath was on his back before he knew what was happening. The weaselly little man really was _very_ good. 

Silk pressed his advantage and his body, naked against Belgarath's own bare skin. Belgarath made an appreciative sound as he ran his hands over his leanly muscled back to settle on a rather bony posterior, encouraging the contact. 

They twisted together on top of the bedclothes. Silk's fingers were nimble, and his tongue was absolutely wicked. He pinched and scraped over Belgarath's chest, drawing out more moans and inspiring Belgarath to flip him onto his back and lick into his mouth, deeply, repeatedly, suggestively. It was a filthy, obscene seduction of a kiss. Belgarath sank down as Silk arched up, putting his back into it. 

He could feel Silk, as slick-hard as he was. And there were those hands again, slipping in and curling around him, finding the most sensitive places as readily as he could no doubt feel out the spots on a pair of dice. 

"Planning on doing anything with this?" Silk asked.

Belgarath grunted. "You have something in mind?"

In answer, Silk stroked his cock again. "I have a few ideas." 

Silk _was_ very good, and _very_ flexible. Somehow, he reversed their positions again and slithered on down the narrow bed. He placed a lick along the inside of Belgarath's thigh. When he looked up, the mischievous twinkle was still in his eye. 

"I'm listening," Belgarath said. 

Silk grinned back. Wrapping a hand around the base of Belgarath's erection, he gave the head a lingering lick. 

Since Silk didn't seem to need much on the way of supervision, Belgarath allowed himself to collapse back onto the straw mattress and enjoy the experience. Silk's mouth was sinfully hot and slick. His tongue teased around the head, travelling down the vein on the underside and then making its way back up in broad, swirling licks. 

Now lips closed around him. Silk's breath against his damp skin grew deeper and more purposeful as he applied suction, taking him deeper inch by inch, until the head of his cock bumped against the back of Silk's throat.

Silk eased back for a breath, then pressed on, swallowing around him. Belgarath's eyes rolled back in his head with the effort of not counter-thrusting. 

Shifting his position between Belgarath's legs, Silk kept going until there was no more to take. With agonising slowness, he pulled back just enough to draw another breath before swallowing him down again, faster this time. 

Belgarath found his fingers twisting in Silk's hair. He was definitely thrusting now; bracing himself, Silk let him for a while, before pulling away. 

With a growl, Belgarath flipped him onto his back. Silk still had that infuriating smirk on his face as he held up a small pot he must have fished out of the packs when Belgarath was distracted. There was a spark of challenge in his gaze as it met Belgarath's. 

Returning a flat stare, he took the pot, which turned out to contain some kind of soft balm. "Aren't we well-prepared?"

"One does one's best." Silk's attempt at a demure tone came off somewhat the worse for the slick finger at his entrance. 

Belgarath didn't push in immediately, but let his touch slip upwards and then back down, rubbing teasing circles around the muscle. Silk's legs fell open wider. Only when he was rocking helplessly with Belgarath's rhythm was he rewarded with a finger pressing inside. 

It didn't take Belgarath long to find what he was searching for. Silk let out a moan, and a ripple went through his wiry musculature. Belgarath added another finger. Silk's arms stretched back to grasp the foot of the bedframe, arching his acrobat's body and twisting on Belgarath's fingers. He was certain the little thief knew exactly what he looked like. Belgarath had to admit, it had the desired effect.

He ran his free hand up Silk's stomach, then curled his fingers and raked his nails back down. Silk rolled his head, drawing one leg up, opening himself wider and sneaking better leverage for himself. Belgarath pressed his thumb into the sensitive skin behind his sac and the root of his cock. 

Silk groaned dramatically. "That's—cruel—old friend," he panted. 

"We can stop if you want," Belgarath offered piously. 

That got him a narrow-eyed glare that smouldered through narrowed eyes. "Don't even think about it, old man." He rolled his hips. "Come on."

"Are you sure?" Belgarath demurred insincerely.

" _Trust_ me," Silk growled. 

Belgarath gave him a hard look. Then he withdrew his fingers. Grasping Silk's upraised knee, he pressed it back, simultaneously exposing his entrance and pinning him down. Belgarath was more than a little impressed when it bent easily all the way to his chest. 

With his other hand, he spread more of the grease over his cock. Silk was tight when he pushed in, but just slick enough. 

Belgarath took his time, searching for the angle he'd discovered with his fingers. Silk could wriggle all he liked, but it wasn't going to make Belgarath move any faster. Maybe it was slightly petty, but he wanted to see the little man desperate. 

He worked himself in and out with long, smooth thrusts. Silk's fingers flexed on the bed frame, and the muscles of his stomach rippled. His eyes rolled back in his head, Belgarath noted with satisfaction, when he nailed the right spot. 

They flickered back at him from under half-lowered lids, hot and bright. Belgarath found himself captivated by their intensity. Silk's wet mouth hung slightly open as he panted, and Belgarath leaned down to kiss him. 

Silk seized his face with both hands and bit his mouth, inspiring Belgarath to growl and bite back. He let up the pressure on Silk's leg for a moment; this close, it was easy to slip his shoulder under the acrobatic little man's knee. 

"That's more like it," Silk purred into his jawline as his thrusts increased in force and speed. 

"Is that what you want?" Belgarath growled back. 

"I can take anything you have left in you, old man." 

In response to his blatant challenge, Belgarath heaved back upright. He put his hands back on Silk instead of the bedding where he'd been braced, manhandling the wiry Drasnian until he had his hips turned sideways, leg still hooked over Belgarath's shoulder. 

Silk cried out when Belgarath started fucking him again in this new position. He maintained a steady pace, watching Silk's fingers curl in the bedclothes, his legs trying to draw in in an attempt to urge Belgarath faster. 

Belgarath groaned with him. His hand found Silk's cock, hard and insistent. He fingered its contours slowly and carefully, pulling down the foreskin the rest of the way, tugging at his taut, heavy sac, thumbing the tendons standing out from his muscular thighs. Drawing it out for as long as either of them could stand it. 

Belgarath was shaking, and Silk's cock was spurting clear fluid that made it slick in his hand. Silk was a portrait of abandon, but those dark eyes still flashed up at him. Belgarath wasn't certain anything could erase that daring smirk. 

The last of his self-restraint slipped through his fingers. He pulled roughly at Silk's cock, thrusting into him hard and fast. 

Silk was panting encouragements at him on every breathy exhale now. The tension in his body was rising, in both of them. Silk clenched around his cock—then, all of a sudden, became impossibly tighter. An arc of seed shot out to splatter on his own chest and neck. 

With a wordless moan, Belgarath followed him over the edge. When he could think and see and move again, he gingerly separated himself from Silk, slumping over to the side of the narrow mattress. 

Silk's eyes fluttered open then closed again when Belgarath's head came to rest next to his on the pillow. The acrobatic little man stretched his back and limbs, not shy about brushing up against Belgarath as he did so. Belgarath slid a hand over the flexing muscles of his waist. 

Silk slitted open his eyes to regard him speculatively. "Well now," he said, "why don't we talk about that?"


End file.
